The Trainer Page 8

  Jared and Catie were already seated near the window overlooking the pier when I got over there. My appearance was noticeably flushed.

  “Rough day at the gym?”

  I waved my hand around trying to blow it off. “We went for a run and I couldn’t breathe.”

  “That’s not from a run, told you she was macking on Destry.” Jared burst out laughing nudging Catie’s shoulder with his own. “She looks like she just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.”

  Oh my God, if they only knew where a hand was five minutes ago and what I’d just been watching. I still had the after effects of my unsatisfied arousal on my mind and blushed like I was twelve. So busted. This made them both laugh even harder. Catie even joined in. Where was the girl’s alliance to her bestie?

  “Seriously, guys, he’s a dick. He hates me, I hate him, it’s a mutually beneficial relationship.”

  “But you are going to still write that article for Marcus on him, right?” Jared inquired.

  “I don’t honestly know how I can do it. He refuses to discuss anything that doesn’t have to do with burning calories and getting fit.” Burning calories, yep, my mind went there again.

  “How about I see if I can find any dirt on him by seeing if he has an arrest record, that could be a start?” Jared mentions this while shoving some of the most amazing calamari strips into his mouth as he patted his stomach and grinned the biggest grin I’d ever seen from him.

  “Fucking brilliant idea, Jared, and while you are at it, fuck you and that calamari you just inhaled and your abs.” Jared knew exactly what he was doing, the asshole.

  He almost choked with laughter. Yeah, choke on that squid you pig!

  Well, an arrest record, if there was one, was at least a start on getting some personal information on Destry. Yeah, I could write this article, I loved research after all and that’s all any good article was about. I’d get the dirt on Destry without his input. Research and interviews, my stomping grounds.

  “Do it, Jared, I’ve got to have something to go on because he’s not spilling a thing.”

  Oh. My. God. Did I just say he’s not spilling a thing when what I saw him just spill in that shower had me squirming in this seat, in front of my friends.

  Jared smirked, like he knew exactly what I’d just witnessed. That motherfucker better not say a damn thing to me.

  “Let’s order some food.” Quick change of subject, party of one?

  I sighed, well, almost cried, as I ordered a glass of water, salad with dressing on the side and blackened salmon plain. All the while Jared shoveled a few more pieces of calamari in his mouth and ordered an appetizer of crab cakes. God I hated him right now, absolutely hated him. Catie was no better, she was right along with him eating crab by the pound, which I stole a few bites of. I need to seriously rethink the alliances I make in this world, or at least the restaurant choices they make.

  Tuesday morning, I got onto my laptop and did some research on Destry. After I stalked Silas’ Twitter feed. Nothing had been posted other than a picture of him performing in Atlanta. I felt a little weird, here I was stalking Silas, but I could not get those images of Destry out of my head. In fact, they were on repeat. Sexy slide show.

  Google was helpful and gave me all the details on James and Denise, Destry’s parents. Unfortunately it didn’t give me a lot on Stella Summers. I knew it had to do with her, especially knowing she left him after that fight. He had a right to be bitter. No guy is that bitter without a woman fucking them over. I’ve learned that from my ex-boss. She fucked so many guys over that she had her own hate page on the internet. I added fuel to that shit as often as I could. Posted once a month on my behalf.

  Jared came home around noon, pleasantly happy the door was locked, holding a folder of what appeared to be Destry’s arrest record. And it was thick. Mostly minor shit like disturbing the peace, vandalism, but then there was a vehicle theft.

  “It was his car so technically he didn’t steal it.” Jared said, shrugging, his hands hanging on his bullet proof vest. “He was just taking it back, apparently, but she called the police on him anyways.”

  “Who took it back?”

  “His ex, Stella Summers.”

  “Oh.” I looked through the rest of the folder and then to Jared. “Isn’t this illegal for me to have this?”

  “Don’t tell anyone where you got it from and we’re good.” Then he smiled heading for the door. “I should have been a fucking detective.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” And then I remembered it was Tuesday. “Tacos tonight?”

  “Yeah.” Jared nodded walking backwards. “I’m off at five.”

  “Okay.”

  I had been good all week. I was having tacos tonight.

  When Jared left, I got on YouTube and decided it was time to watch this boy fight. I got out my notepad and typed in “Stone vs. Lucas.” Hundreds of videos popped up.

  I clicked on the one titled: Knock out that was five minutes long.

  They actually started that video with the introductions. The whole production of a fight, which I had never been to, was unreal. It was like a rock concert.

  “Here is your heavyweight champion of the world, Destry Stone!” Then Destry appeared from the shadows, stone faced and silent as he made the slow walk toward the ring while Linkin Park’s “Wretches and Kings” blared.

  They went through all the introductions, said those famous words I knew, “Let’s get ready to rumble!”

  Various lines in the commentary caught my attention.

  “He’s in the best physical and mental state he’s ever been. This is just an upset for everyone.”

  As the fight progressed, round after round, it looked like Destry had the upper hand.

  “He’s good at keeping his distance and he doesn’t move back into the ropes, he moves around his opponent. Lucas can’t stand directly in front of Stone that way. It’s disaster. He’s not feeling him out at all. He’s just positioning himself in front of him, flat footed. He’s not moving and Stone sees that. It’s only a matter of time before he finds the right combination and ends the fight.”

  Then round five comes and Destry was a different fighter all together. His attention was on the crowd, more importantly on Stella who was seated to his right. Every few seconds, he’d glance at her. And then he just stood there. Kept backing away and ending up in the ropes. Lucas had him in the ropes, delivering jab after jab when he came back with a left hook, and a blow to the side of his head. Destry went down. He didn’t even try to get up.

  “It’s over. We have a brand new heavyweight champion of the world!”

  The camera spun to Destry, now standing in the corner with his trainer, only his eyes weren’t on the belt being handed to the new WBC champion of the world. It was on his girl walking out on him.

  I sat there staring at the screen that I’d paused on Destry’s face. No wonder the guys such a dick to everyone. I Googled “Destry Stone and Stella Summers” to see what came up.

  It was image after image of them together at various events, in Seattle, on vacation, you name it, for two years. It was clear he adored her with the look on his face in every photograph. That my friends was a man in love. No doubt. The man in those photographs was very different from the man I saw five days a week.

  I had to leave for a couple hours to pick up my dry cleaning and then get my nails done. By the time I got back Jared was home and the comforting smell of flank steak tacos was filling the hallways.

  When I got inside our apartment and set my bags down, I looked around expecting Catie to be here. “Where’s Catie?”

  Jared didn’t look up from his chopping as he prepared his salsa. “Home, I guess.”

  “You didn’t invite her?”

  “Why would I? Taco Tuesday is our thing.”

  I smiled, liking that Jared and I had a thing. No matter how close I felt to Catie because she was the only girlfriend I tolerated, it would never compare to the comfort I felt
around Jared. There’s nothing I couldn’t tell him. Sometimes he made fun of me, but then there were times where he gave me exactly what I needed to hear. A man’s unbiased point of view.

  He knew something was up with me immediately. “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird since the Crab Pot.”

  I shrugged trying to distract him with the new chips I picked up to go with the salsa. “These are made fresh every day.”

  He reached forward and grabbed the bag. “Are you mad Catie was at lunch with us yesterday?”

  He was so far off the mark that I had to set up straight now. With a deep inhale, I blurted it out. “I saw Destry jacking off in the shower yesterday.”

  He stopped chopping, maybe even stopped breathing. His reaction was somewhat entertaining. Jared wasn’t sure what to make of that. You wouldn’t know he was going to say anything by his impassive stare, but then a smile quirked his lips. “Why were you watching?”

  “I didn’t mean to.” I braced my hands on the counter and leaned in. “I needed to change, he was in there, I stayed and watched. Now I feel guilty.”

  “You should feel guilty. We do that shit in private.”

  I laughed when he said “we” because I knew damn well Jared still jerked off. He may be twenty-three but he still indulged in the self-pleasure. No man spends forty-five minutes in the shower without doing that.

  “You’re missing the point.”

  Jared was quiet, his eyes dropped from mine to the cutting board. “Have you caught me?”

  “No,” I laughed.

  “Good.”

  “Well, not this week.” A huge grin spread over my face.

  He threw some cilantro at me.

  I sighed, dramatically. “Should I say anything to him?”

  “No.” Jared shook his head immediately. “Don’t. Just pretend you didn’t see anything.”

  “I’m not sure I can look at him again. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I mean, that was…” I felt my cheeks flush remembering the way his body bent over when he came. “It was sexy.”

  “I don’t think I need to hear this. I want to enjoy my tacos and not think of a guy beating off in the shower.”

  “Oh come on, you said you wanted to know what was wrong. So I told you.”

  “No, I asked you if it was because of Catie. If I would have known it had to do with Destry, and him in the shower, I wouldn’t have asked.”

  Our conversation slowed as we prepared dinner but when we sat down at the table, I had to ask, “So what’s really with you and Catie?”

  Jared brought random girls home every once in a while but for the last six months, it had only been Catie.

  “We’re just having sex, Tallan.” He took a bit of his taco, chewing slowly, and then added, “There’s nothing to it.”

  I took a chip and loaded it with salsa. “So you don’t love her?” I then shoved the chip in my mouth.

  “No,” he seemed annoyed that I was asking. “Not in that way.”

  “And how does she feel?”

  “We haven’t talked about it. I think she’s sleeping with a guy she works with too.”

  “Oh.” My eyes dropped from his face to my taco I hadn’t touched yet, instead I’d been feasting on chips.

  Jared shrugged, took a drink of his beer and then rested his elbows on the table preparing to eat his second taco. “We’ve never said we were exclusive so I can’t be too bent.”

  “But you want to be… exclusive?”

  “I don’t even know anymore. I’m just focused on getting this probation year over with and then I guess I’ll see what happens.”

  The look he gave me told me he had feelings for Catie. He just wasn’t sure what they meant.

  I could definitely relate to him.

  When I got to the bar that night and down to the basement, Destry was in the ring with another guy sparring. Danny was standing near the weights, his arms crossed over his black t-shirt that read Danny’s on the back.

  I looked at Danny, standing next to him. If anyone would give me the real scoop on Destry Stone, it would be his uncle, right?

  When he noticed me, he smiled slightly.

  “What’s his deal?”

  The hint of a smile he had dropped. I don’t think Danny wanted to answer me truthfully. But he did answer. “He’s angry.”

  Angry was an understatement for Destry. Just watching him now, it was apparent.

  “Has he always been this way?”

  Danny contemplated answering me, again, and then said, “No. He hasn’t. He was a happy kid, for a while and then life happened and it knocked him down. He always found a way to win. An advantage. But he couldn’t that night.” Danny’s voice had a distance to it that I didn’t quite understand. Almost like he was talking about someone who had died. In a way, a part of Destry did die that night. You could easily see that watching the video of that fight.

  The commotion in the ring caught my attention.

  The way he jabbed at the guy I couldn’t keep up with how fast he was. The power, the determination, the skill, it was all impressive to me, and unbelievably hot. He was quick, his foot work and the way he bounced on the balls of his feet as he paced his sparring partner was impeccable just like the quickness behind his powerful hits. I was in awe at his ability, strength and control in the ring. I knew then there was no way he lost that fight. No fucking way a guy like him wasn’t ready.

  I felt bad for his sparring partner. He couldn’t see the punches coming at him let alone defend himself against them. Destry then delivered another, then a body shot and a right jab.

  The guy bowed out after that and waved his arm at Destry. “I’m done, Destry.”

  Destry nodded, held his gloved hands up and spit his mouth guard out. He turned and saw me standing there for the first time and our eyes locked. Usually Destry doesn’t look at me long. There were fleeting glances, but for some reason he stared at me right then and I was trapped, unable to lift my gaze from his.

  Immediately his naked body was in my mind and gone was that white t-shirt he was wearing right now and those black shorts all but evaporated. All I saw in that moment was him naked in the shower.

  Forever burned into my memory.

  His trainer approached him, giving him feedback, showing him video footage on his phone of the sparring sessions and then dropping his shoulder to give him an example. It was interesting to me to watch the way Destry was intently listening to him. I wouldn’t think he would listen to anyone.

  I learned a lot about him when he wasn’t looking or when he was interacting with others. He’s quietly confident and has a sense of arrogance, yes, but it’s not displayed in the ways you would think. He’s a totally different person around me so seeing this side of him had me captivated.

  When his trainer left, Destry approached me as I sat on the mats stretching out my legs. My calf was still sore but it wasn’t as bad as before. He was right, ice helped.

  “Let’s start with a run.” His foot lightly kicked at my thigh as his hand reached out to help me up. His left hand. The one that two nights ago was touching his dick.

  Take that hand, Tallan. Lick it!

  “You’re gonna do two full miles today.”

  Sometimes I’m not sure whether I should be afraid of Destry, or simply laugh at him. Was he crazy?

  Reaching up I pushed my hair out of my eyes. “The fuck you say.”

  Neither one of us broke eye contact because I could be a shit head too. He’s met his equal when it comes to shitheads and I think, no, I know by the way he was staring at me he realized it right then. “Okay…” he paused and leaned into the wall, his head bent forward but his eyes rose to meet mine. “Cardio gives you… endurance. Think of it that way. You want endurance, don’t you?”

  Goddamn him. He was doing this on purpose. I knew it.

  We went for a run. And amazingly, I went the full two miles. Just one week ago you couldn’t get me to run a block, now look at me. I blamed, or should I
thank Destry for that. I was always running to keep up with him because there was no way I would let him run behind me and see the very thing I was here to rid myself of.

  Two fucking miles. Might as well have been two hundred because I wanted to die when I was done and contemplated having Mr. Gravity help me out again by rolling down the stairs to the basement. Instead I just held onto the handrail and prayed to the gods with each downward step. Back in the basement, I laid on the mats, face first panting and holding my calf. It still hurt only now it was cramping up.

  “Do you want me to massage it again?”

  Fuck yes, I do.

  “No.” I turned over and flopped myself on my back. “That’s okay.”

  “Take a bath in ice.” I peeked one eye open when he spoke. His stare was unnerving. “It helps.”

  He was quiet for a moment as I sat up and watched him as he leaned into the wall.

  “I don’t have a bathtub. Only a shower.”

  Destry pushed himself away from the wall and closed the distance between us. “You can use my place.”

  “The locker room?” My eyes betrayed me. They went to his crotch.

  “No, my apartment. I have a bathtub.” When I didn’t say anything, his mouth twitched running his hand over his jaw. “Is that a yes?”

  The words came out before I could stop them. “Yes.”

  I’m not sure what I expected when I thought about Destry’s apartment, but I didn’t expect this. There was absolutely nothing in the way of photographs or decorations. It was nice with black stone tile in the entry way and kitchen that met dark wood floors in the living room. Against the wall in the living room was a brown leather couch, a rather nice one that appeared to be slept on quite often. Surrounding it was about a dozen empty beer bottles and one empty vodka bottle. In the corner next to a window that overlooked the city was a punching bag hung from the ceiling. Against the opposite wall from the couch was a television mounted on the wall.

  That was it.

  As I walked further into his apartment, I gathered he was a necessities only type of guy but had expensive taste.

  “You want some water?” Destry asked from behind. “Or a beer.”